Submerged by a tide of hypocrisy

ONE DAY someone walked into our family home and stole it — the furniture, the fittings, everything. There they stayed for the next 60 years. In fact, they’re still there. Not long ago, my brother knocked on the front door. They let him in to look around, then turfed him out again.

I keep telling my dad that he should see a lawyer, petition the authorities, get something done. But he doesn’t want to. The house is in the Ukraine. “We’re British now,” he says. “So long as the property is there, and we’re here, it’s fine by me.” He’s right, of course. We are British now.

I am the son of two immigrants to this country. My father was born in Lvov and came…